Kate Cumming: A Journal of Hospital Life in the Confederate Army of Tennessee.

November 10. [Chattanooga] —I went with a party horseback riding to-day. General Hardee was our “pilot” and an excellent one he was. He took us to the top of a very steep ridge; there was one of the finest views from it I have ever beheld; every now and again we could see the river, as if peeping out from its many islands. Although we have had frost and snow, the trees had not shed their foliage, and were beautiful with the gorgeous hues of autumn. When we reached the summit, there was naught there save the “silent worshipers;” there was a solemnity which seemed like the “felt presence of the Deity.”

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“along these lonely regions where, retired

From little scenes of art, great nature dwells

In awful solitude.”

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As we were descending, the girth of my saddle broke; some men were near, who helped mend it. While waiting, I looked over the precipice we were near, and saw a “darksome glen,” where the “noble stag” that Fitz James so ruthlessly chased might have been “soon lost to hound and hunter’s ken.” It was a most solitary nook, by mountain and hill surrounded. The sun was setting, and

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“The western waves of ebbing day

Rolled o’er the glen their leveled way;

Each purple peak, each flinty spire,

Was bathed in floods of living fire,

But not a setting beam could glow

Within the dark ravine below.”

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The author of the “Tactics” is truly a military-looking man, and combines the fortiter in re with tho suaviler in modo. At the commencement of the war, while a colonel, he had command of Fort Morgan. He is held in high esteem by his men. Major Roy, who I believe is his adjutant-general, was with him. He is a handsome man, and has a fine address. He spoke of the general most affectionately.

On reaching home, I found that one of my patients had died in my absence. His name was Thompson, a lieutenant in the Twenty-seventh Mississippi Regiment. He was brought into the hospital, a day or two ago, in a dying state. His captain was with him, and left me his sister’s address. I have a lock of his hair, which I will send her when I write.


Kate Cumming: A Journal of Hospital Life in the Confederate Army of Tennessee.
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